


Proper Beard Care

by Redbirdblackdog



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beards (Facial Hair), F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, Married Life, relationship, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbirdblackdog/pseuds/Redbirdblackdog
Summary: “You want it so much, you take care of it.” It was a threat initially, well not a threat he would never threaten her. He’d never let anyone threaten her. So it was a taunt, a tease, a challenge he didn’t expect her to accept. It was a way to get out of something he didn’t really want to do. Extra work to avoid. Now, now he loves it. Not the beard so much. It’s fine, he doesn’t fucking care, but how Sansa cares for it... fucking loves it.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 146





	Proper Beard Care

“You want it so much, you take care of it.” It was a threat initially, well not a threat he would never threaten her. He’d never let anyone threaten her. So it was a taunt, a tease, a challenge he didn’t expect her to accept. It was a way to get out of something he didn’t really want to do. Extra work to avoid. Now, now he loves it. Not the beard so much. It’s fine, he doesn’t fucking care, but how Sansa cares for it... fucking loves it.

She runs her hands through his beard. Petting and rubbing him like an animal. Her fingernails run gently through it to just touch his skin, she said it to ‘massage the follicles’ for healthy beard growth. It’s not true though, not completely. She wants to touch him. She loves this part of him, and all the parts of him that are so different from her. She’s subtle about many things, but her love for his strong arms, low voice, and now his beard are obvious. 

She woke him this way. He woke to her sitting astride his stomach, leaning over him with those beautiful pale fingers in his beard and he lets out a purr. A purr, like a fucking cat. That’s how far he’s gone for her, emulating a fucking feline. From his position he can quietly appreciate her. They are opposites in so many ways, but he supposes that’s why they fit, why they compliment each other. She’s radiant, the sun coming through the windows catches her hair, lighting it up like fire. It surrounds him, doesn’t make him nervous though, he’d burn for her. He does burn for her every fucking day. He moves his hands and rests them on her thighs, letting his tanned hands just whisper a touch on her pale legs. It’s not sexual, not yet at least, it’s more intimate then that. 

“Ready for beard day,” she whispers with a hum behind it. 

“Ya, Little Bird,” his voice still a little gravely from sleep. He can’t help but lean into her touch. 

“Okay,” she says her voice going brighter. “Strip,” she comands with a laugh. 

“Bossy,” he replies. 

He wraps one arm around her holding her in place as shifts off the bed and stands. The change in position pulls a giggle from her. She’s nose to nose with him now, her legs wrapped around his waist. He gives her two quick kisses on the lips and slowly lets her go, her body sliding against his until her feet touch the floor and she takes a half step back. He can’t take his eyes from hers. She points at his waistband, then points to the ground. 

“Off,” she says with a smile. 

He wasn’t wearing much, just boxers to bed. He used to sleep nude with her, but their youngest still sneaks into their room at night on occasion and you make some sacrifices for your kids. He slides his boxers down to the floor, then uses his foot to flick them back into his hand and throw them into the laundry hamper. 

He looks back to see her biting her lip as she draws her eyes over his naked body. He can’t help the smile that crosses his face. He knows she enjoys his body, skin darker then hers and hard planes of muscle. 

“You gonna supervise from the sink this time,” he questions? Gesturing toward her with his chin. “Or you gonna get naked too?”

“Oh no,” she whispers running her hand through his beard for a moment. “Got to protect my investment,” smiling into the words. He watches as she strips off her shirt and sleep shorts. Then immediately turns toward the shower. 

“Come on big fella,” she jokes. Gesturing for him to follow along. 

Of course he follows her. He can’t help but slide up behind her, just a light press of his body behind her. Then he peppers her neck with kisses as she turns on the water. 

“This is serious,” she scolds with a laugh. 

“Seriously serious,” he growls backs in her ear then watches her shiver from his breath on her neck. 

When the water is warm she takes his hand and pulls him in, her directing him under the spray. He grabs the shampoo and washes his hair, then the soap and lathers up his body. He scarcely takes his eyes off her. She’s not here to get clean herself, so she says. She’s here for him, to help him. It’s a inside joke that they don’t both get something out of this. 

He’s back under the spray rinses off and soaks his beard. Now it’s her turn. She reaches for a bottle and pours some out in her hand. She’s up on her toes as her hands cup his face, she begins massaging in big, gentle, deliberate circles. He can’t help but close his eyes and just feel her attentions. His hands rise up to hold her low on her waist his thumbs brushing the soft skin on her belly. She starts massaging up and back grazing his earlobes and rubbing along the hinge of his jaw. He stretches his jaw back and forth as she goes. Then her hands move forward and her thumbs apply a steady and soothing pressure along his sideburns and down his jaw. He can smell it, the soap smells of fir trees and sap. He loves the scent now because it’s associated with this. She continues moving down massaging his mustache and chin. He opens his eyes now, she is biting her lower lip in concentration and it fills his mind with all sorts of sinful ways this could end. 

“Okay, rinse,” she commands. 

He can’t help but chuckle that he kind of likes it when she’s bossy. He steps back under the spray following her directions as she steps out of the shower. He shuts off the water and steps out of the shower after her. Sansa’s got a white towel wrapped around her and is holding one up for him. He dries his beard and hair, then his body. He tries to hand the towel back. 

She scoffs, “put the towel on, half the time I end up sitting on your lap anyway. Now where is that darn stool?”

She doesn’t realize he hides it for this very reason. Or maybe she does, she is rather savvy after all. He wraps the towel low on his hips and sits down on the only seat in their bathroom. A smug smile on his face. 

“Oh shucks,” he says with a shrug. “Guess you’ll have to sit here,” he turns the smile towards her while patting his leg. 

“Shucks?” She smiles sweetly, “did you just replace a ‘fucks’ with a ‘shucks’?”

“For fucks sake,” he replies shaking his head.

“There he is, my husband is back,” she jokes. She gives him a knowing look, “I guess if there’s no where else to sit.”

She sits down on his lap, a leg on each side and facing him. His hands come up to hold her low on her hips. “Don’t get any ideas, Ser,” she scolds. Reaching in the drawer that’s behind him. 

“Huh,” he says innocently, “what kind of ideas Little Bird?” Now wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “What could this position possibly imply?” Giving a small buck with his hips. 

“You are terrible,” she whispers shaking her head. She sets to work with a wide comb removing the tangles from his beard. 

“Ah, but you still love me,” he replies. 

“Yup,” she answers simply. 

Then she reaches past him, back into the drawer and trades out for a finer comb, repeating the process. Trading out again for a curry brush. This one she uses to to ‘rough and fluff’ she says. He’s glad he’s not facing the mirror for this part, it always makes his beard look wild and crazy. 

She swaps back for the fine comb again, smoothing out his beard and checking if it needs a trim. 

“It’s getting so thick and so soft,” she hums. “Maybe just a little trim.”

She trims the mustache and beard with a pair of small scissors, occasionally scolding him to keep the face relaxed, it’s hard to keep from smiling at her. She’s focusing so intently, so close, and he can smell her. 

She trims up the neck with the razor, he can’t think of another soul he let bring a blade to his neck. He'd always shaved himself, everyday since he was fifteen. He loves it when she does it though... the pull on his skin and his Little Bird so near he can count the freckles across her nose. Then, always, about halfway through she is lost in concentration and her little pink tongue peaks out, he loves that part. 

She cocks her head to one side, then the other sizing up her work. Her hands run through his beard again, once... twice, then the nod. Nearly done.

Next she rubs the beard oil into his beard. Lemon verbena and peppermint. He didn’t like the scent at first, citrusy. If it’s the cool of the peppermint wins him over, the smile it puts on his wife’s face seals the deal. She rubs slow circles with her hands, working the oil into his beard and skin. She hums as she works, she always does. 

Then she retrieves the wax tin. Rubbing it into her hands to warm she shapes and smoothes his beard how she prefers. It has a fir scent also, seems to mix well with the citrus. 

She shifts her hips, leaning forward, now they’re cheek to cheek, her lips to his ear. She takes a deep breath and blows it out, the warm breath tickling his neck. “Mmm you smell soooo good,” she purrs. Then she lays a short kiss on his neck below his ear. She shifts again and they and they’re nose to nose with her hands carding through his beard. 

“What do you want to do now,” she asks with a whisper. She’s looking up at him through her lashes as she bites her lip, again. 

“Hummmm,” he whispers back and pecks a kiss to her lips. “You,” he answers now kissing her deeply, he suddenly stands lifting her with him. Her legs wrap around his waist and a giggle escapes her. It’s only a moment till he’s got her onto the bed. They’ve reversed where they began, he is the one hovering above her. His body settles between her legs with his arms holding him above her. He admires the view... her red hair fans out across the pillows, pink lips wet and waiting, her blue eyes shine with desire. Her hands come up to him, one tugs his beard gently the other cups his jaw bringing him closer to her and ending with a searing kiss as her hands advance into his short hair. 

He always loves beard day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh this was fun!! Thanks for reading, let me know if you like it.


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